18 May 2012
Passion is a dangerous drug. Had me dying to taste the rug. Threw me in the pit, so hard to get out. Clueless soldier not knowing what it was about.
Now I know how to believe, All of your lies, your decieves. Feeling your grip on my collar!
You fooled me, with your fine words, Your lies, and your well placed hurts. Sucked the light from me. Took the love from me.
Eat your little mean heart out. I can't be this, that's not what I'm about. I never wanted to live in an arena. But you played those tones so fine, Messed with our heads with your magical concertina.
All your calculated emotions. Your fevered gentle explosions. Starting a war from behind enemy lines. All so well disguised behind your lies.
Now I know how I believed, All of your lies, your decieves. Feeling your grip on my collar!
You said, you had no part in war, But you started your own little war. Took your lies to the highest hills, Trempled the honest beneath your heels.
I started to see, where it all began, You fled me, before I could make a stand. Now you've been caught, with the mice. Sitting in your corner, rolling the dice.
Better stay away, this heart is raging. Your little fine soldier's done fighting your war. Now when your heart has rot to the very core.
Now I know not to believe, All of your lies, your decieves. I felt your grip on my collar! --------------------
This is a poem. It's not a letter, and probably not about you.
Torn Down Soldier • Opuss № I